


Thunderstorm

by BelovedMalfoys



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Other, Sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-04
Updated: 2016-09-04
Packaged: 2018-08-13 02:19:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7958533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BelovedMalfoys/pseuds/BelovedMalfoys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco Malfoy is a very lonely boy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thunderstorm

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time writing so any kind of feedback will be appreciated. Thank you and please enjoy.

It was raining again, it was no surprise really considering these pasts few weeks have been absolute hell for Draco. Voldemort had decided that Malfoy Manor was the perfect place to set up his headquarters, the hallways were now patrolled by stinking Death Eaters who act as if they own the place.

Don't get him wrong, Draco absolutely adored the heavy trickling of the rain as fat droplets dripped down glass windows, he loved the rumbling of the thunder as it battered across the manor and loved how lightning would illuminate his dimly lit room; however he found himself no longer loving it as he once did, perhaps it's because he can't bring himself to find any enjoyment as his mother and father were suffering at the hands of the Dark Lord.

Draco was sitting at his oak study desk, a quill in hand and a leather book placed in front of him, he had been staring at this boring piece of paper for about an hour and couldn't find himself the will to write, he was worrying about his friends again.

It was a joke he and his father would laugh about, when his father would come home late after bargaining with the Ministry, Draco would always run downstairs and demand where his father had been so late at night.

His father would say, “My apologies, Narcissa.” Then smirk.

Draco missed laughing with his father, where was the lie? Draco had inherited every inch of his father yet he had the heart of his mother. Draco remembered when he'd go out for ice-cream with them, he remembered them laughing at him when he'd ended up with mint all over his face.

More than anything, he missed seeing them happy.

Laughter used to echoe throughout the manor but now it was nothing but silence, other than the occasional cackle from his dear aunt Bellatrix. Draco once asked her after she'd come back from being out with the other death eaters how it went as she seemed so thrilled.

Her response?

“We burnt down the filthy blood traitors’ house today! Boom! No more itty-bitty weasels.” She cackled.

For the first time, Draco wanted to yell and scream this wasn't right, this torture fetish of hers was enough to make a grown man cry. He did end up crying a few times, he'd cried in front of that pathetic excuse of a saviour, as if that wasn't humiliating enough, he's probably speaking about to all of his little friends and mocking him.

Draco hadn't realised how much pressure he was putting on his quill until it snapped, he even jumped as he did and muttered how foolish it was to be afraid of a fucking _feather_. You know, before all this he realised how healthy he had looked before, he used to have that glow to his skin and that slight tinge of pink on his cheeks but now he just looked like a corpse ready to be cremated.

The pale teen raised a hand to his cheek and quivered in disgust as there was no sign of chubbiness to his cheeks, it was just bone and so was his body, he found himself shivering randomly due to him not having a decent meal for a year and he'd even once fainted in one of Professor Snape’ potions lessons for he was not capable of handling the heat well anymore.

He hated this, he hated it so much and yet here he was, starving away as a psychotic maniac was roaming around his one beautiful family home. The delusional prick.

No, he couldn't keep thinking like this or he was going to lose both hope and his sanity. Draco let go of the now demolished quill and stood up from his desk, he walked over to his large bedroom window and opened it. It was such a nice feeling as the chilly breeze hit him; he held out his hand and felt the cool droplets slide down it, he felt relaxed after all this time and didn't want it to end.

Obviously, everything comes to an end. Draco frowned as he recognised a rather large owl swoop in to perch on his window ledge, a letter in its beak. Draco plucked the envelope out of the birds’ beak and gave it a little pet, to which it cooed in return as the boy begun to read its contents.

_'Draco,_

_It has been quite some time since you last 'owled’ me, or should I say ‘us?’ We wanted to make sure you were alright. I know what your answer is, 'no I'm bloody not all right you ignorant swines!’ but we're only double checking._

_Pansy's worried about you, she can't sleep because she's missing her best friend, so is Blaise but you know him, he won't show a single emotion and I'm concerned if he's actually human._

_We miss you Draco, we love you dearly so please don't be afraid to talk to us._

_Your trusted friend,_  
_Theo.’_

The ink smudged as Draco's tears melted into the page, he wished, oh god he _wished_ he could write back to them but he can't because Voldemort, being the paranoid bastard won't let anyone send owls. Theo’s owl nudged into his hand as he saw Draco was upset, Draco raised a hand to pet him again and sniffed, “I'm sorry you've had a wasted journey, I have nothing to give you.”

The owl almost looked as if it was glaring, 'No, I've never had a wasted journey when I'm delivering to you’, he watched as it flew back into the thunderstorm and sighed.

It was exceptionally lonely being Draco Malfoy.


End file.
